


i'll be completed within you

by blifuys



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: (Kind of) Choking, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, It isn't that prominent dw, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Porn with Feelings, Praise Kink
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-24
Updated: 2020-07-24
Packaged: 2021-03-04 21:54:49
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,764
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25493443
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/blifuys/pseuds/blifuys
Summary: Claude has needs. He’s been starved for months. He hasn’t seen Dimitri in a while, and the lack of touch has left Claude desperate for more.
Relationships: Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd/Claude von Riegan
Comments: 9
Kudos: 100





	i'll be completed within you

**Author's Note:**

> let me tell u about the suffering i underwent in this fic, major kudos to all my friends who heard me screech from 1am-4am because god you guys are the real mvps
> 
> hennyway this is written for claude's bday but its not his bday in my timezone anymore so you americans and europeans have to celebrate it for me thnx im going to bed

Dimitri feels human under his fingers.

Claude feels the way Dimitri ebbs and flows, chest rising with each breath. He doesn’t know how he ended up here; his clothes halfway across the room and Dimitri’s lips like fire on his, but here they are.

It started with a chaste kiss—innocent, really. Dimitri had reached around his waist, tugging Claude closer until they ended up tangled on his bed. He’s long lost focus on what they’re supposed to be watching at the moment. The way Dimitri’s hand grips him sends electricity up shooting up his spine, and nothing else really matters besides the steady cadence of his boyfriend’s breath upon his lips—

He’s been starved for months. He hasn’t seen Dimitri in a while, and the lack of touch has left Claude desperate for more. The sex toys help—albeit temporarily. He thought he was satiated for a day, having scratched that itch before Dimitri had arrived; but Claude von Riegan makes the occassional miscalculation, especially when it comes to Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd.

Every brush of skin against Claude makes him feel like he’s been set on fire with nothing to put him out. His head feels clogged full of nothing but thoughts of Dimitri, Dimitri, _Dimitri,_ and the bruising bites that his boyfriend leaves on his lips respond to his silent call.

“Can I…?” Dimitri asks like it’s their first time, and it’s so heartwarming that Claude is reminded of exactly how much he loves this man. He’s woken up so many times in his bed—tangled in the sheets and within themselves—that formalities shouldn’t really be needed.

But oh, does Dimitri ask,

“Yes.”

And Claude responds the same, over and over again.

They don’t have the patience to drag it out this time. They’ve waited too long—between Claude’s back-to-back overtime and Dimitri needing to prepare for exams, they barely had enough time to talk at night. There is only so much intimacy a phone screen can give. A 4.5-inch picture of his boyfriend’s 7-inch cock is nowhere near having said phallus stretching him out; melting Claude from the inside.

He’s earned this. _They’ve_ earned this. He is not willing to wait any longer.

“Hurry _up,_ ” Claude groans, his hands grabbing onto strong, tough shoulders. He’s clawing, pulling, practically _begging_ for Dimitri to finally end his drought. “I—Shi—”

“Beautiful, I need you to be patient.”

_Ugh._

How much more did he need to wait? Claude feels a bubble of upset swelling in his heart, clouded with the desperation that fogs his mind like mist. He wants it all, to be ruined by Dimitri’s thick girth. He wants to feel everything—to spark his nerves aflame until he rolls over into a forest fire blaze; until Dimitri quenches him.

He opens his mouth, ready to demand for Dimitri to hurry up, he’s _waiting!_ He’s impatient! He’s not willing to tolerate any more time for his boyfriend to squander, he’s—

And Dimitri’s hand finds Claude’s throat.

His touch is gentle, yet firm. Dimitri’s thumb brushes over Claude’s jawline, squeezing his neck enough for him to feel pressure, but not enough to hurt. It does the job of shutting Claude up, and he sees nothing but the blues of his boyfriend’s eyes—demanding. Strong.

_Hungry._

“Claude,” Dimitri mutters. “Be a good boy for me. _Be patient.”_

Claude watches Dimitri reach towards his bedside table, scooping the clear plastic bottle of gel into his hand.

To make it clear—Claude is not like this in usual circumstances.

He’s usually so careful when it comes to preparation. He finds himself having to draw out Dimitri’s patience in most of their nasty skirmishes—telling Dimitri to _wait_ , he needs to prepare himself. Claude’s day is made whenever he makes Dimitri watch him—to look and never touch.

Drawing out every tense strand of Dimitri’s patience thin; Claude’s fingers travelling to places that Dimitri cannot go just yet.

It seems, that with enough time, the tables turn for Claude. This time, he nearly loses it from having to watch Dimitri slick himself up, taking himself into his fist and stroking. His mouth nearly waters at the sight, but a rational bit of Claude’s mind tells him to wait. Patience will lead him to great things, and hopefully, mind-numbing sex.

Claude must have lost focus, because the next thing he registers is the feeling of Dimitri against his ass. He’s slowly stretched out, being set aflame with every inch of Dimitri entering him. Eventually, Dimitri sits snugly inside him, perfect like puzzle pieces fitted together. 

“Let me hear you, beautiful,” Dimitri whispers a hot breath against Claude’s ear, and his skin prickles again. “I’ve wanted to hear you for so _long…”_

“Dimitri—” On cue, Claude gasps out his name. “ _Please…_ ”

“You don’t understand how beautiful you are.”

As if to prove his point, Dimitri thrusts once, particularly harshly. He earns a cry from Claude, and he wears it like a victory slung around his neck, lip curled into a satisfied smirk.

“See? You sound so pretty, taking me whole,” Dimitri mumbles against his ear again. “So good…”

“I’m _not,”_ Claude has never been good at taking compliments, boyfriend or not. The sudden barrage of praise makes him want to hide his face and never show himself again. The tips of his ears and the apples of his cheeks tingle; Dimitri’s told him that Claude blushes a very particular shade of pink. “I’m not pret— _ah!_ ”

Dimitri cuts him off with another thrust, stopping fully inside of him. There’s something stern and demanding about this thrust—and Claude’s stomach curls with pleasure, burning with excitement and anticipation.

“You’re beautiful.”

“Dimitri, now’s not the time for—”

“I’m not moving till you tell me you’re beautiful.”

_Ugh!_

It’s not every day that Dimitri demands something from Claude, he’s usually so eager to please. Eager to give in to Claude and what he wants—but tonight seems to be different. His gaze is like a predators’, hungry and alert; trained fully on Claude.

“I…” Claude says, his voice shaking with embarrassment. His face burns bright, and he raises his hands to his face; hiding himself as he gives in to Dimitri’s demands—“I’m beautiful.”

“Stop hiding yourself,” Strong hands grab his wrists and force them to the side, and Claude has nowhere to go now. “Say it. Say you’re beautiful.”

He doesn’t think he can take the stillness any longer. Claude has _needs_ , he wants to move, he wants to be ruined, he wants to be fucked so good he falls asleep immediately, but—

Ah. Fuck it.

“I—I’m… I’m beautiful.” He mutters, loud enough for Dimitri to hear. “I’m beautiful.”

“Good. I want to hear it more,” Dimitri says, pulling his hips back slowly. “You don’t look at yourself enough, darling.”

And Claude feels electricity, shooting up his spine.

His lover’s hips finally pick up the pace. The pressure inside of his stomach builds up, getting harder and harder while their skins burn alive. Their bodies rock together like a dance, melting within each other’s arms while Claude moans into the night; Dimitri’s hot grunts vibrating against his neck.

“Shit—”

“Ha… Haha… I thought you were the patient one, my dear,” Dimitri chuckles, breathless while he keeps moving his hips into Claude—in and out. “I thought you liked playing games?”

“Sh-shut up,” Claude snaps quietly, not enough bite for it to mean anything. “I won’t play games with you anymore if you keep wasting my time—”

Dimitri laughs, sucking kisses into the side of his neck, under his ear. He’ll leave bruises for everyone to see, for sure, but at this moment Claude does not give a shit. He wants to be Dimitri’s, he _wants_ to be seen as Dimitri’s. Perhaps absence does make the heart grow fonder, because Claude doesn’t think he has it in him to be apart from his lover any longer.

They twist in the sheets, tangling their fingers together like vines on a trellis. Perhaps the thing Claude looks forward to the most when they have sex is the closeness. He feels safe, protected, _loved_ ; everything he’s ever wanted to feel.

And it seems that Dimitri feels the same way.

“My Claude… Nngh. I’ve waited—so long…” Dimitri’s voice rumbles low. “I’ve waited too long, missed you—”

“ _Fuck,_ ” Claude hisses. He feels stretched, Dimitri’s tip brushing against that spot that makes him curl his toes. Claude pulls his thighs upward, wrapping his legs around Dimitri’s waist like a hug—and he feels so _close._ “Please, please, I—!”

“Darling, _darling,”_ Dimitri moans, breathy and low. “I’ve got you. Let yourself go for me—”

“Dimitri!”

Claude’s body shivers and lights up like a firework. Sex with Dimitri is always mindblowingly good, but cumming feels like euphoria—letting go of months worth of built up tension. The world goes blurry for a few moments, light and airy, like he’s weightless. Not long after, Dimitri slumps over him, his full weight near-crushing Claude; but it’s nothing but comforting to him.

Everything is hazy. He’s the most relaxed he’s been in a long time. Claude wiggles his fingers free of Dimitri’s hold, before he quickly loops his arms around his lover’s neck. He burrows his face into that broad, firm shoulder—inhaling deeply. Dimitri always smells faintly of baby powder; calming and lovely.

“… Was I too rough, darling?” Dimitri mutters, but he makes no move to flop over onto his side, instead of crushing his boyfriend under his weight. Claude chuckles and shakes his head.

“Nope. It was _perfect._ ”

“Who knew you could be _this_ bratty?” Dimitri sounds like he’s smiling, and Claude nearly winces in embarassment again.

“Who taught you that word—Oh. Sylvain again?”

“I’m astonished at your lack in faith in me, Claude. I can have _some_ knowledge of lingo too!”

“It was Sylvain, wasn’t it.”

“…Yes.”

Claude laughs, sleep slowly overcoming his senses. There are disjointed thoughts lingering in his head—pancakes? He feels like having pancakes. Maybe he’ll go out tomorrow. Sylvain will have his ass kicked the next time Claude encounters him. He loves Dimitri so much. _He loves Dimitri so much._

As he fades into blissful unconciousness, the last thing he remembers is the feeling of a kiss—pressed into his forehead, right between his eyebrows where he likes it the most. His heart is full, his body safe and secure; and everything is right with the world.

“I love you.” Claude whispers, drifting off.

“I love you too.” He hears someone whisper, so gentle and _promising,_ and everything fades to black.

**Author's Note:**

> [click for chaos](https://twitter.com/blifuys)


End file.
